


Alternate Universe

by Saud



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Crossover, Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Canon, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saud/pseuds/Saud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda (MCU) has to deal with being stuck in an alternate universe (X-Men Cinematic Universe).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> I started this before X-Men Apocalypse and CACW came out, and I obviously don't know what will happen in Infinity War, so it's canon-divergent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda discovers her powers give her the ability to "spatio-temporally project" (or so Dr. Foster describes it), and decides to use this ability to save her brother.

Sometimes when Wanda uses her powers, she sees images swirling in the mist. At first she thinks they're tricks of the light; her eyes looking for patterns and finding them where there are none. She would often see Pietro’s final moments in her hex bolts; the bullets striking him, the way his body struck the ground.

Then, one day when she is practicing throwing hex bolts outside the Avengers compound, Bucky interrupts her.

“Hey Wanda, did you see that?” he asks.

“See what?” she says, turning to him and shaking out her hands.

“The… the face. When you did your magic thing. In the cloud. I swear I saw a face… I guess it was nothing.”

He lowers his head, his eyebrows pushed together.

“Really? You saw a face?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, looking back up at her.

“I thought it was just me!” she shouts, “I see things in the mist all the time. I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.”

“Do it again,” he says, “If we both see the same thing this time then maybe it's real.”

“Okay,” Wanda agrees, curling her fingers and reeling her hand back like she's about to hurl a baseball. Then she brings her hand forward slowly and flexes her fingers.

A red mist swirls out in front of her. At first it's just a roiling cloud, but she holds it, holds it for longer than normal. It feels like holding a push up. After a few seconds the smoke starts to settle into a grainy image.

It looks like a chain link fence.

“Do you see it too?” she asks, her voice strained from holding the hex bolt. Right after she speaks she can't hold it anymore and has to let it go. The image blurs then dissolves into the air.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, eyes wide, “it looked like a fence.”

“Yeah!” Wanda agrees. “What could it mean?”

“I have no idea,” Bucky says, “Maybe it’s an alternate reality, or another dimension,” he says. “Do those exist or have I been reading too much sci-fi since I got unfrozen? You should talk to Dr. Foster. She seems to know a lot about this stuff. Steve said she's been to Asgard.”

“Dr. Foster sounds like a good idea,” Wanda says.

* * *

 “Wow,” Jane Foster says the next day when Wanda shows her the images revealed by her hex bolts.

“Right?” Wanda responds. This time they had seen an open door to a shadowed doorway.  
“What do you think it is?” Wanda asks.

Dr. Foster brings her hand to her chin, “Weeeell,” she says, “It could be a lot of things. My guess is spatio-temporal projection. Or perhaps they’re visions.”

“Like of the future?” Wanda asks.

“Maybe,” Dr. Foster answers.

“They can’t be,” Wanda says.

“You don’t believe in that sort of thing?” Dr. Foster asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not it,” Wanda says, “It’s just that sometimes... I see my brother’s death. Sometimes, when I’m thinking of him and I cast a hex bolt I see him die right in front of me again.” She’d seen him die from every angle, all stained in red.

“Hm,” Jane says, “I’m sorry to hear that. That’s terrible.”

Wanda nods.

After a minute of buzzing silence, Dr. Foster speaks; “Maybe,” she begins tentatively, “You’re seeing different points in space-time. It seems that when you’re thinking of your brother’s death, the moment manifests in your bolts. Why don’t you try thinking of something else in the past and let’s see if you can see that?”

“Alright,” Wanda says.

“Try to picture something you remember very well, maybe that’ll help,” Dr. Foster advises.

Wanda closes her eyes. Pietro’s death is the sharpest and most painful memory she has. She may not have seen it when it happened, but she’d felt it, and she has seen it in her hex bolts a hundred times.

The only memory she could think of that rivalled the intensity was that of the bomb that had killed her parents, but she didn’t want to remember that either. So she chose to focus on the memory of the moment she'd gptten her powers.

_She had been sitting in that glass cage at the HYDRA base. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the Sun. There was a drip in the ceiling that was driving her crazy. Her anger intensified with every ping the water made off the shallow puddle in the concrete floor. She wanted to scream, to pull out her hair. She wanted to break something, to crush something in her bare hands, but the only breakable thing in the room was her. Instead of raking her nails into her own skin, she raked them into the ground, breaking them on the concrete, and she couldn’t believe what she saw. Red mist like steam was curling from her fingers across the ground. Her raged ebbed as the mist flowed from her fingers and dissipated into the air._

And with that image in her mind, Wanda curls and then flexes her fingers, coating the air with a red cloud.

It takes a moment for the image to settle, but as soon as it does she sees the grainy image of a younger version of herself, grating her nails across the floor. The image, like a swirling hologram, hangs in the air for a moment before fading.

“Wow,” Dr. Foster says, “Yeah, that’s definitely displaced spatio-temporal projection.”

“I feel like you just made that term up.”

“I did make the term up,” Dr. Foster says, “It’s in my dissertation.”

“Wait." Wanda hesitates before continuing. “Do you think I could, like, reach into the mist to actually touch the past?”

“I… I don’t think so,” Dr. Foster says.

“Oh,” Wanda says, her voice lowering with her hopes. She’d thought that maybe, if she could reach into the past, she could save her brother.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, though,” Dr. Foster suggests. Her smile seems patronizing.

“Okay,” Wanda says.

With that sickening feeling in her stomach that always comes with thinking about him, Wanda pictures her brother’s death. Gritting her teeth against the feeling of a punch to the gut, she casts a hex bolt into the air. Almost immediately, it settles to an image of Pietro, dyed red, with darker red bullet holes embedded in his chest and abdomen. He's so close that she's sure she just has to reach out to touch him. With her other hand, Wanda reaches into the mist, but instead of landing on her bother, her hand drifts through the mist, scattering it slightly.

She lowers her hands and the image of her brother hitting the dirt dissolves into the air. She realizes she's shaking.

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” Jane says.

“Do you think, that if I—if I practiced, that eventually I would be able to—“

“I don’t think so,” Jane interrupts before Wanda can rebuild too much of her shattered hope, “If you’re standing in a universe I just don’t think it’s possible to reach into its past.”

“Oh, okay,” Wanda says, her voice trembling like her hands.

“But…” Dr. Foster says, her eyes sharpening, “I think it just might be possible to reach into the past of another universe.”

“How does that help me?” Wanda asks, her eyebrows knitting together, trying to follow Dr. Foster’s speeding train of thought.

“Maybe if you could conjure an image of an alternate reality, you could step into it, and then, from that reality, maybe you could reach into the past of this one to save your brother. Of course, then the present you came from, this present, would no longer exist. You could never return to it.”

“That wouldn’t matter. As long as I have my brother with me I don’t care what universe I’m in.”

“This isn’t a decision to make lightly, Wanda,” Dr. Foster warns. “If you save him, then all of the things that happened as a result of his death will not happen. I know you love your brother, but it’s because he died that Clint and that little boy lived. He died to save them. Saving him would mean killing them.”

“Clint died anyway,” Wanda reminds her, “In that war with Thanos.”

“Yes, but what about the little boy?” Dr. Foster asks.

“If I had to choose between saving a stranger, and saving my brother, I’d save my brother, every time, a thousand times,” Wanda says.  _He was half of my soul_.

“If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you,” Dr. Foster says, with a grimace that says she wants to, “I _can’t_ stop you. These are your powers. No one can control them but you. Just, please, please think it over. Don’t do it hastily. If you can reach into the past, then waiting a few days won’t make a difference.”

“Okay,” Wanda says.

“Good,” Dr. Foster says, “It was nice to see you.”

Dr. Foster smiles sadly at Wanda before turning and walking out of the room, to the elevator.

That’s exactly how long Wanda waits, the time it takes Dr. Foster to reach the elevator.

She has endured years without her brother. Knowing that it might be possible to get him back makes it impossible to wait another second, much less another day.

Wanda knows she could conjure a hex bolt big enough to walk through. When Pietro died she’d conjured one as big as a room. But she’d never made one quite as big before or since.

Now, when she throws one forward and tries to expand it, it's like trying to blow up a tire with just the breath from her lungs. With a grunt, she lets go of the bolt and it shimmers in the air for a moment, half of her size.

_How could I even conjure one with an image of an alternate reality in it? I've never been to one, I don't know of any._

_To conjure the past I have to picture it. Maybe, to conjure an alternate reality, all I have to do is picture it. Picture an alternate universe._

_What if Pietro was still alive?_   She wonders. So she pictures it, pictures Pietro living, breathing, walking in front of her, in an alternate reality, one where he’d lived.

With that image in her mind, she throws a bolt forward. She gasps and nearly loses the hex bolt when she sees the image in it. It fluctuates and nearly dissipates, but she manages to hold onto it. She sees Pietro walking, talking to someone she can't see. He's smiling.

This time the bolt expands easily, like a balloon. She pushes one of her hands forward, until her fingertips are a millimeter from the mist. They pause there, her whole body straining to maintain the hex bolt.

_What if it doesn’t work?_

_Then I’ll keep trying until it does_ , comes the firm reply, and she thrusts her hand forward.

Her hand is swallowed by the mist. She sees Pietro’s head snap towards her, his smile turning into open-mouthed horror as her disembodied hand lands on his shoulder.

She steps forward into the cloud and suddenly she is there with him. The world behind her bolt loses its red tint as she steps into it. She is here, in an alternate reality, and Pietro is alive.

”Wanda?” he says, his voice high-pitched and wavering.

“Yes, it’s me,” she says as she tackles him with a hug.

She is sobbing into his shoulder when she hears a high pitched shriek from behind her.

Reluctantly, Wanda breaks away from her brother and spins to look at the little girl who had screamed.

“Are you a monster?” The little girl asks, her eyes wide.

“No,” Wanda says, “I’m Pietro’s sister. Who are you?”

“ _I’m_ Pietro’s sister too,” the little girl says, crossing her arms, “You would know that if you were really Wanda. You’re a monster!”

 _What?!_ Wanda thinks. She’s never seen this child before in her life.

“Are you really Wanda?” Pietro asks.

She turns back to him and his eyes are full of tears.

“Yes,” Wanda says, a feeling in her gut telling her something is wrong.

“But… but you died… how—?”

“I died in this universe?” she asks.

“ _This_  universe?” Pietro repeats.

“Yeah,” Wanda responds. “I come from a universe where _you_ died. I came here so I could reach back into the past of my own universe to save the Pietro there,” she explains. “We don’t have a sister in my universe,” Wanda says, staring at the little girl who looks so much like her dead mom. “Are we still adopted in this universe?”

“Yeah, we're adopted,” Pietro says, “by Django and Marya Maximoff.”

“Same parents, then.” Wanda says. “Are they… are they still alive?”

“Yeah,” Pietro answers, “Wait… are they not in your universe?”

“No,” Wanda says, looking down, “I’m here to save them, too.”

“Oh man, so you lost me and our parents in your universe?” Pietro asks.

“Yeah,” Wanda says.

“And there’s no me in your universe?” The little girl shrieks, “Sounds like a crummy universe.”

“Ana, why don't you run on home? I’ll be there soon,” Pietro says to the little girl.

They are on a sidewalk, rows of two storey brick houses with backyards are on either side of the street.

“Hmph,” Ana says, pouting as she turns to walk home.

“I’m sorry you lost everyone. That sucks,” Pietro says after the girl is out of earshot.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you lost your sister. I know what it feels like because I felt it when I lost you."

"Like losing half of your soul,” he says.

“Like having your heart ripped right from your chest."

He nods.

“Can you save her too?” he asks. “The Wanda from my universe?”

“I can try,” she says, “You’ll have to tell me exactly how she died, and when, so I can picture it more clearly.”

She has it mapped out in her mind. She wold step into her universe the moment before her Pietro’s death, save him, then open a portal from there to just before this universe’s Wanda died, and save her too.

“Okay,” Pietro says. He closes his eyes and sighs, “We were fighting Apocalypse.”

“Who?” Wanda says.

Pietro opens his eyes. “Apocalypse. You don’t have him in your universe? Lucky… I mean, apart from you losing your brother and parents.”

Wanda grimaces.

“Anyway, we were fighting him. It was April 19th, 1986. It was in the evening. We were at The School.”

"What school?"

"Charles Xavier's"

“Who’s Charles Xavier?” Wanda asks

Here Pietro goes bug-eyed, “You don’t have Charles Xavier in your universe?”

“No. Who is he?”

“He runs the school for Mutants,” Pietro says.

“Mutants? Is that what you call powered people here?"

"Yeah."

“You were in Charles Xavier’s school, and…?” Wanda prompts.

“We were running away from Apocalypse down the hallways. Well, I was running and carrying Wanda in my arms, but then she turned and tried to fire one of her cloud thingies at Apocalypse, but he just absorbed it like it was nothing, but I guess it made him mad, so he made one of the Mutants he had brainwashed strike her with lighting. It electrocuted me too, I fell and passed out… but I guess Wanda got the brunt of it, because.” He pauses and inhales, his voice shuddering, “because, when I woke up, she was dead in my arms.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wanda says, putting her hand on his shoulder as tears begin to flow down his cheek and fall off his chin.

“You look just like her,” he says, his voice wavering on every word.

“You look just like my brother,” she says.

Almost, she mentally corrects herself. They are the exact same height, but this version of her brother is a little scrawnier, his hair a little longer and more unkempt.

“I’m not going to remember meeting you, am I?” he asks.

“I guess not,” she says. If she changes the past of his universe, this conversation would never happen, “but I’ll always remember meeting you,” she says, “And you’ll never have lost your sister.”

He nods.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, turning and walking out from under her hand. “It was nice to meet you,” he adds, looking back over his shoulder.

He speeds up into a blur to catch up with his little sister, halfway down the block.

Wanda doesn't watch them go. She takes a deep breath and curls her fingers and then spreads them out.

And nothing happens.

She tries again. Again, nothing happens. Not even a tiny puff of red, not even a tendril of red smoke.

With a crushing feeling, she realizes what the problem is. Her powers are fuelled by the mind gem. There must be no mind gem in this universe.

“No,” she says under her trembling breath.

She wants to scream and fall to her knees. It feels like Pietro has died all over again.

Dr. Foster was right, she realizes. If she had taken time to think her plan through, she would have realized that she had to take the mind gem, to take Vision, with her in order to save her brother. She’d acted too hastily and now she would never be able to save her brother, or the Pietro of this universe’s sister.

“Wait!” she calls at the Pietro a block in front of her.

He doesn't hear.

She starts running towards him. Her vision blurred with the tears springing to her eyes.

“Wait!” she calls again when she's closer.

He stops walking and turns, letting go of his little sister’s hand.

“It didn’t work,” she says as she approaches him, her lip trembling, “My powers don't work in this universe. I’m stuck here, and I can’t save my brother.”

His face falls. It means she can't save his sister either.

She starts sobbing.

“Maybe you’re meant to be here,” Pietro says through his frown.

“What?” she asks through shaking sobs.

“Maybe you’re meant to be here,” he repeats, “You lost your Pietro, and I lost my Wanda, but now that you’re here we have each other. Maybe it was meant to be.”

After a moment, her sobs quiet.

“Yeah, maybe,” she says doubtfully. She doesn’t believe it, but the thought soothes the gaping wound that has been reopened in her chest, the wound that will never fully heal.


	2. Future Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Wanda finds out how Pietro got his powers, she wonders if she too has the Mutant Gene. They make a trip to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters to meet with Hank McCoy and find out.

Wanda has no place to stay. All the money in her wallet is from the twenty-first century. Useless. Pietro offers her his Wanda's old room in their parents' house.

"But first," he says, "let me prepare them."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Wanda agrees.

"Okay, you wait here. Our house is just around the corner. I'll come get you once I'm done explaining."

He pulls Ana forward by her little hand. The girl stares back at Wanda for a few steps. To this little girl, Wanda must be a reminder of the sister she lost. Ana must feel so much grief, and love, and anger when she looks at Wanda. But Wanda feels almost nothing for the girl, save a general and impersonal empathy.

Wanda creeps to the intersection and watches them go into a brown-brick hose with a black mailbox out front.

It feels like an hour before Pietro comes back out, alone.

She starts walking towards him and he zips to her. They start walking to the house together, at a normal pace.

"How did they react?" Wanda asks.

"Dad started crying. They both didn't believe it at first. Mom yelled at me, asking me what sick joke I was trying to play. After Ana and I got them to believe me, I emphasized that you weren't her, you just look like her, but you're different. They agreed to let you stay. Be prepared for questions."

"Thank you for this, Pietro."

"No one's called me that in years," he says, looking forward at the empty street.

"Really? What do they call you, then?"

"Peter."

"Why?" Wanda asks.

"When we moved here, people made fun of my name. Teachers butchered it. I was only six, but I knew it was just easier to go by Peter instead."

"So you came here when you were six?" Wanda asked. It explains why he doesn't have an accent.

"Yeah. I assume you never came to America, because you still have the accent."

"No, I came. Just a few years ago."

"Oh," Pietro -- Peter (She has to remember to call him that. It will help her to remember he isn't _her_ Pietro.) says. He stops at the driveway to his house. There is a car in it, a Mustang. Her father had often talked about how he wanted a Mustang. Not that they could afford a car... and then the bombs started falling and they couldn't afford anything.

Wanda follows him up the faded driveway, the porch steps. The welcome mat is threadbare in the middle, as if worn by the feet of a million people. She knows it's because of Peter. Pietro did the same thing to the carpets of their old apartment in Sokovia.

He pauses in front of the door, takes a breath, then pushes it open. She walks in on his heels, practically hiding behind him.

She sees his parents. They look just like her parents, if a little less worn down. She can't stop her breath from catching.

Peter moves out from in front of her, leaving her exposed like an open wound.

"Hi, Wanda," Marya Maximoff says in a broken voice, her face scrunching up.

Django looks stunned, like he's staring through her.

"You can call me Scarlet," Wanda says, "If it makes this any easier." She couldn't imagine losing a child then meeting someone who looked exactly like them and having to call them by her dead child's name.

"So I'll show, um, Scarlet to Wanda's room, okay?" Peter announces.

"Okay," Marya whispers in a mousey voice her mother had never used.

"Dad?" Peter says.

"Al-alright," Django stutters, his eyes finally focusing on Wanda.

She follows Peter up the stairs, feeling the stares of Marya and Django Maximoff rake into her back.

Peter stops dead in front of a doorway. Purple letters are painted onto the door in childish strokes:  _Wanda_. He doesn't open the door for her. It's like there is a force-field around the room he cannot pass.

He looks down at his scuffed shoes as she places her hand on the doorknob. He turns away as she pushes the door in. He walks down the hall, away from her, as she walks into the room that belonged to his sister. There are pictures of her -- of his dead sister, who looks just like Wanda -- on the dresser and taped to the pale pink walls. They make her feel like an impostor wearing the skin of a dead person. There she is kissing a girl she doesn't recognise, beaming with a group of friends she'd never met. She wants to tear these pictures down. She doesn't though. This isn't her room. She feels like an intruder just sitting on the bed.

She wonders what happened in this world to set time thirty years back.

She sits on the bed, staring at nothing until the sun goes down. When Marya calls to her that Dinner is ready she doesn't go down. She can't deal with the awkward stares, faltering voices, and tear-filled eyes.

The next morning hunger overcomes her and she has to go down for breakfast. Marya, Peter, and Ana sit around the table.

"Hey, Scarlet," Peter says with a mouthful of toast, forcing cheer into his voice.

"Hi," Wanda responds, sitting in front of a plate of food.  _Is this for me?_   No one yells at her when she picks up an apple slice from it, so she assumes it must be.

"I thought her name was Wanda," Ana says and Marya flinches.

Wanda bites into the apple slice.

"Yeah, but she said we could call her Scarlet; it's her nickname," Peter explains.

"Hurry up with your food, Ana, or you're going to be late for school," Marya says, in the easy tone Wanda was used to her own mom using before the war came to Sokovia.

A few minutes later Ana finishes her food and walks upstairs.

"So, Scarlet," Marya says after a moment of relative silence, the only sound their chewing, "Peter says you're from an alternate reality, What's it like there?" She sounds as stiff as a steel rod.

"Well, the biggest difference is it's 2018 there so everything's a bit more advanced. But also there's a lot of war, so I can't say it's really better." Wanda tries to sound light and conversational, but just ends up sounding breathless.

"Huh," is all that Marya says in response. She's mostly lost her accent. Wanda wonders how much of that loss was deliberate.

Ana stomps down the stairs with her backpack slung over one shoulder. "I'm ready, mom," she says.

"Okay, honey," Marya says, getting up and walking to the front door with her daughter. Wanda hears the front door open and shut, a car start.

"So is Ana their biological child?" Wanda asks.

"Yeah," Peter says.

"How old is she?"

"Almost twelve."

Twelve years ago. That was after her parents died. She wonders, if they had lived would she have a little sister too?

A thought occurs to her.

"How did you get your powers?" She asks.

"What'd'you mean? I'm a Mutant."

"Yes, but what does that mean; _Mutant_?"

"Well, it means I was born with this gene, called the Mutant Gene and it's activated at puberty. That's when I got my powers."

"If it's biological," Wanda says, her pulse picking up its tempo, "do you think I could have it too?"

"I don't know," Peter answers , "My Wanda had it, so maybe... but if you had the gene then why didn't it activate?"

"There aren't any Mutants where I'm from. Maybe whatever activates the gene at puberty here just doesn't exist there."

Pietro's mug of coffee pauses halfway to his mouth. He looks up at Wanda.

"We could find out if you have it," he says.

"How?" Wanda asks, placing her palms flat on the table.

"I can take you to the School, they could do a test."

"How soon can we go?" Wanda asks.

He pushes himself up, downs his coffee in one gulp and, in a blur, puts his empty dishes in the sink. "We can go now, if you want."

"Let's go," she says, jolting up out of her seat.

* * *

"Hey, Jean," Peter says as a tall, tanned man with jet-black hair answers the door of the mansion Peter had sped them to, "Is Beast here?"

"Hey, Peter," Jean replies. Then his eyes fall on Wanda and they grow wide. He takes a step back.

"She's not a zombie, jeez," Peter says, "She's Wanda from a different reality."

"A what? -- A different _reality_?"

"Yes," Wanda confirms, "You can call me Scarlet."

"Okay, um, well, Hank is teaching a class right now, but you could wait in his office if you want." He says this fast, all in one breath. His eyes don't blink as he stares at Wanda.

"Thanks, buddy," Peter says, clapping Jean on the shoulder as he passes. Jean takes another step back as Wanda passes, giving her a wide berth.

Peter leads them down a hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. Peter stops in front of one bearing a bronze plaque that reads "Professor Henry McCoy" and pushes it open. They walk into the room beyond and each sit in one of the two chairs in front of a large desk piled with papers and models of things Wanda doesn't recognise. They wait for half an hour, neither of them saying much. Peter comments on the weather. Wanda says that this didn't look like any school she's ever been to before.

The door opens and this time it's Wanda who stares, bug-eyed. The man who walks in is  _blue_.

"Hey, Hank!" Peter says, grinning.

"Who is this?" Hank asks, looking at Wanda, not with horror but with curiosity in his sparkling icy eyes, "Another shapeshifter?"

"No," Peter says, "It's Wanda from another reality."

"Fascinating," Hank says, plopping into the rolly chair behind his desk, "How did you get here?" his eyes narrow at Wanda.

"I-I used my powers," Wanda explains, "Hex bolts. I used them to create a sort of portal. But the thing that was powering them -- the Mind Gem -- it was in the other universe. And so my powers don't work here."

"We came so you could tell us if she's a Mutant. There aren't any Mutants where she comes from, but she thinks that might be because whatever activates the Mutant gene here doesn't exist there," Peter continues.

"Hmm, interesting," Hank says. He gets up from his chair and walks out of the room. A second later he pops his giant blue head back around the door, "I'll be back in a moment."

A few minutes later he comes back with a small silver cylindrical device.

"This device is used to tell if children have the Mutant Gene. It pricks the skin like a glucose monitor then draws up a bit of blood. In thirty seconds, the top lights up red if you have the Gene and green if you don't." He walks up to her. He pulls a small strip of plastic from a slot in the device and it clicks."Hold out your finger," he says.

She does and he takes her hand in his free hand. His palm is rough and the nails at the ends of his fingers look like claws. With his other hand, he presses one end of the device to her fingertip and pushes a small yellow button sticking out of the shiny metal. There's another click and she winces as she feels the device prick her finger. After a couple of seconds the device beeps and he pulls it away from her finger. What feels like a minute passes as she stares at the top of the device, waiting for it to light up.

It lights up red.

"Very interesting," Hank says at the same time that Peter shouts "Woah!"

Wanda smiles. So there's hope. Not much, but some. If the gene can be activated, and if it gives her the same abilities as the Mind Gem, then she can still save Pietro.

"So does this mean that I'll become a Mutant?" Wanda asks.

"Well..." Hank says, and Wanda's heart drops to her knees, "I don't know. Usually the gene is activated at puberty or not at all... but, since you weren't even in this reality during puberty... it is possible that just being here will activate it. But it's more likely that your child will have it, and, if they stay in this reality, will become a mutant."

"My child?" Wanda asks, "I don't have a child."

"Well, yes, not yet, but -- oh, you don't know, then. Oh dear," Hank says.

"Know what?" Wanda asks, her heart sinking even further.

"That you're pregnant," Beast says with a calmness more suited to announcing the weather.


	3. The Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Peter rush to the pharmacy to find out if she is pregnant.

"That's not possible," Wanda says, "The only person I've had -- the only person I've  _been with_ is a -- isn't capable of making anyone pregnant."

"Might I propose that maybe they weren't as incapable as you think?" Hank asks.

No, it can't be possible. Vision. Vision isn't even human.

"He wasn't human... he was _created_ , then brought to life by the same stone that gave me my powers."

"If what gave him life gave you powers, then it seems you aren't entirely human either."

"This is crazy," Peter says. He put his hands to the sides of his head, as if trying to keep it from exploding.

"You say that as if giant blue monsters don't exist, and as if one isn't sitting right in front of you. This universe, all the universes, are strange and full of wonder."

Wanda gets up.

"Thanks for your help," she says, sticking out her hand. Hank stands too and envelops her hand with his monstrous one. His handshake is surprisingly gentle.

As they rush down the steps of the mansion, Wanda turns to Peter, "Where's the closest place to get a pregnancy test?"

"Uh, well," Peter says. He puffs out his cheeks, "I guess there's a pharmacy nearby?"

"Show me," Wanda orders.

He stops walking and holds out his arms towards her.

"Hop on," he says, bending his knees.

Seconds later they're in front of a Rite Aid.

"I don't have any money," Wanda says.

"No problem," Peter says.

Wanda barely sees him dash into the store. What seems like only a second later he dashes out again, holding out a narrow box.

"Thanks," Wanda says as she snatches it from him. Her head whips left and right, looking for a place that might have a bathroom. She rushes across the street to a cafe and dashes into the washroom.

She doesn't even have to wait the full three minutes. There's no mistaking the solid second line.

She groans out loud. She starts thinking about how she will be able to get an abortion with no ID. Then she wonders... does she even want one? This child... it's her only connection to her own world, which she is almost certain she'll never be able to return to.

How is she going to be able to take care of a child? How is she going to even be able to get a job? She wants to start crying right there in the stall of a public washroom.

 _I've gotten through worse_ , she tells herself, holding back her stinging tears. Then she sniffles and gets up. She washes her hands and tosses the test into he garbage on her way out.

Peter is sitting at a table -- it's still like a punch to her gut seeing his face, her brother's face -- with two cups of coffee. He's drinking one and one is in front of him, before an empty seat. He looks up and sees her walking towards him. His face falls when he sees her expression.

"It's positive," she says as she sits.

"Bummer."

She puts her elbows on the table and her forehead in her hands. "I don't even have ID that's valid in this decade."

She pulls out her wallet abruptly and slips her driver's licence from inside. She shows it to Peter.

"I haven't even been born yet."

Peter whistles. "You're fucked," he says.

"Not helping." she puts her licence back in her wallet and rests her head in her hands again.

He slurps his coffee.

"Y'know," he says, "My mom is a nurse."

"She is?" Wanda asks. Her mom had always wanted to be a nurse, but just as she'd started nursing school the school was bombed to rubble.

"Yeah," Peter says, "I bet she could sneak you in for an ultrasound."

* * *

The next day Marya Maximoff is rushing Wanda through the halls of a hospital, her eyes darting left and right.

"Wait here," Marya says as they stop at a door. Marya slips inside. Wanda is left standing under the white light of the hallway for a few minutes. Marya returns with a shorter woman, her hair braided tightly against her scalp.

Marya motions her inside the room.

"Lie on the table and lift your shirt," the other woman says.

The woman wheels a machine over to Wanda and sits in a chair beside the table. She shakes a bottle the squirts cold viscous liquid from it onto Wanda's abdomen.

Next it feels like she's been prodded by an alien as a probe pushes along her belly.

She hears clicking sounds like a keyboard then the probe lifts.

The woman turns the machine to Wanda so she can see its monitor.

"Congratulations," the woman says, "You're having twins."

 


	4. A Better Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda wants to keep her kids because they are her only connection to her own reality, but she also knows she cannot care for them.

_Twins_. Wanda can't believe it. She wasn't prepared for the possibility of taking care of one child, much less two.

She sits on her dead counterpart's bed clutching her knees to her chest.

 _I'll have to get an abortion_ , she thinks. Tears prickle her eyes. If these babies are born they'll be her only connection to her own world, a world she is trying desperately to keep hold of.

 _I'm being selfish_ , she thinks,  _considering_ _bringing children into this world just to maintain a connection to my own_.

She hears a knock on the door.

"Come in," she calls, letting go of her knees and hanging her legs over the side of the bed.

Peter walks in, his face down. He walks over and sits beside her on the bed.

"So, twins?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says. She isn't able to bring herself to anger at Marya for telling him. "I don't want to... get rid of them, but I can't take care of them... so it feels selfish to keep them."

"Well, we were adopted, so maybe they can be too," Peter suggests.

"We were lucky," Wanda says, "There are so many children waiting to be adopted. How can I bring two more into this world?"

"There are people," Peter begins, then pauses for a moment before continuing, "Who can't adopt kids through normal means, but desperately want them."

"What people?" Wanda asks.

"Well, there's Gabriel Shepherd, a teacher at the School, and his partner, Marcus Opeyemi. And Gabriel has a sister, Rebecca Kaplan. Her husband, Jeff, I don't know if you'll know what this means, but he's a transexual man, and they won't let them adopt a child either."

"I know what it means," Wanda says. "Where I'm from the term 'transgender' is considered more polite."

"Huh, never heard that one before."

"You really think they'd want to adopt my children?" Wanda asks.

"I think so," Peter answers.

"Do you think either of the couples would want to adopt  _both_ of my children?" Wanda asks.

He blows air noisily through his mouth, "I don't know, we can ask them," he says.

* * *

"Back again so soon?" Hank asks as he opens the front door of the mansion for them.

"Yeah, we're here to see Gabriel and Marcus," Peter explains.

"Hm, come in," Hank says. He leads them to a small dining room in the left wing of the house. He tells them to sit and that he'll be back shortly.

A few minutes later two young men walk in. The tall white one walks to the left of the short Black one, who pushes a walker in front of him. 

"Hi Peter," the white man says.

"Hi, Gabe, Hi Marcus," Peter responds.

The white man's eyes dart to Wanda. "This is the reality-jumping alternate-universe version of your sister Jean-Paul was talking about, I presume."

"Yeah," Peter affirms, "She goes by 'Scarlet'."

The white man holds his hand out to her, "Hi, Scarlet," he says when Wanda shakes his hand, "my name is Gabriel Shepherd and this is my partner, Marcus."

"Nice to meet you," she says. She shakes Marcus's hand next.

"Why did you want to see us?" Marcus asks, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, I heard," Wanda begins, "That you were looking to adopt a child."

Marcus's face perks up at this. His hands tighten on his walker.

"I'm pregnant, I'm having twins, and I won't be able to support them," Wanda says. She sees Marcus's face fall again.

"Oh, dear," Hank says, "Faculty are only permitted to have one child who is not a student of the School living with them in residence. This limitation is one of the ways we ensure we have enough resources to provide for students whose parents are unable or unwilling to afford tuition."

"Can't you make an exception?" Wanda asks, turning to Hank.

Hank shakes his head. He's frowning, "I'm sorry, Wanda, we can't."

"What about your sister, Gabe?" Peter asks, "She's also looking to adopt. Could she take twins?"

"I-- I could ask," Gabriel says. "I'll call her and ask. I'll call you and let you know what she says."

Peter gives him their home phone number and then Peter and Wanda leave.

It's all Wanda can do not to wait by the phone all evening. She forces herself to eat with the Maximoffs, though she isn't feeling hungry.

It's just after 9:30 p.m. when the phone finally rings.

"Scarlet?" It's Gabriel's voice.

"Yes," Wanda says, breathless.

"Well," Gabriel begins. His tone makes her heart sink, "I called my sister. Her and her husband really want to adopt a child, but they're already fostering two children. They won't let them keep fostering both if they adopt twins. The most they could adopt is one child."

"Oh."

"But Scarlet," Gabriel says, "If you let me and Marcus take one, and my sister and her husband take the other, then they'll both have loving homes, and they will know each other. My sister and I are close. It won't be like they're being separated. I promise they'll never be apart for longer than a couple months."

Scarlet closes her eyes.

"I'll think about it," she says.

"Please," he urges, "And let us know when you've made your decision. My sister and her husband are coming down with their foster sons next week. You can meet with us then if you've made a decision."

* * *

A week later, Wanda, Marya, and Django sit across the table from Gabriel, Marcus, and Jeff, and Rebecca. Peter has taken Jeff and Rebecca's foster sons off to wreak havoc somewhere in the mansion.

"I want to be able to be a part of their lives," Wanda says.

"Of course," Marcus agrees, "We want them to know you too."

"Yes," Rebecca adds. Gabriel and Jeff nod.

"Would you let me teach them their heritage? Their Jewish and Romani heritage? Can I celebrate Rosh Hashanah and Sukkot and other holidays with them?"

"I don't see why not," Gabriel says, "Their heritage will be their heritage no matter who raises them."

"I'm Jewish as well," Jeff says, "I'll teach them the traditions I grew up with, and you can teach them the ones you grew up with. You're welcome to spend some of the holidays with us so you can be with them."

"And of course they can spend holidays with you sometimes," Marcus offers.

"We know this is hard for you," Rebecca says. She reaches out to touch Wanda's hand.

"I want them to have a better life than the one I could give them, but I want to be a part of it as well."

"We want that too," Jeff says.

"We'll each give them the best life we can, and that will of course include you," Gabriel promises.

"But you have to understand," Marcus says, "We will be their parents. You will be part of their lives and you will always be their biological mother, but we will be their parents. We will choose the schools they go to, their rules, their punishments. Of course all of us are against corporal punishment, but apart from that, and apart from their culture, we will choose how to raise them.

Django puts his hand on Wanda's shoulder. This is a hard thing to accept, but it's something her biological parents accepted, and something she must as well.

"Yes, I understand," Wanda says, her throat feeling tight.

After another hour of talking they agree; Gabriel, Marcus, and the Kaplans will pay for Wanda's prenatal care and hospital bills. They will be there at the hospital when she gives birth. Gabriel and Marcus will take the first twin, the Kaplans the second. They will name the twins, not her.

Tears roll down Wanda's cheeks as she leaves the room with Marya and Django. She's sobbing by the time she reaches the car. She doesn't know why. She's happy she gets to have these pieces of her old world, and that they'll get to have lives she could never offer them, each with two loving parents. But she's sad, sad that these people in the car with her look like her family, but aren't, sad that she can't raise her children herself with Vision, that she'll never see him again.

But mostly she's just sad that she can't go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not Jewish or Romani. I tried to the best of my ability to be culturally sensitive, and if anything in this chapter is inaccurate or offensive I will apologize and change it. 
> 
> As Romani culture is closed to outsiders I will not be able to add much if any of Wanda teaching her children about it in future chapters, and I will avoid focusing too heavily on her teaching them Jewish traditions, as I would not be able to do them justice as a goy. I did, however, feel it was important to note Wanda's heritage in my story, as it is an aspect of her and Pietro that is ignored and whitewashed in both the Marvel Cinematic Universe and the X-Men Cinematic Universe.


End file.
